


Live Like Your Love Wasn't Meant for Mine

by failwolfhale



Series: Fic Battle [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failwolfhale/pseuds/failwolfhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don’t talk about it much, at least not right away. After everything, Lydia slides into the backseat of Derek’s car without thinking about it much; without thinking of anything really except staying close to Jackson. He keeps an arm around her and she keeps her face buried in his neck, shamelessly clinging to one another. Maybe a few weeks ago Lydia would be discouraging this sort of dependency, wouldn’t even admit to needing it. But...but she really did love Jackson, no matter how she made it look on the outside. She could use as many layers of foundation and lipgloss and mascara she wanted, but there was no changing that she loved Jackson.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p>Written for the prompt "Break-up" for mine and Keri's fic battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Live Like Your Love Wasn't Meant for Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't actually _that_ sad. It's got a bit of a bitter sweet ending and there's a little bit of fluff towards the middle. 
> 
> Unbeta'd because I don't know what happened to the two people who said they were gonna beta for me... /sigh
> 
> Title taken from the song [Featherstone](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M0IDiVQxZYg) by the Paper Kites. It's a great song and I listened to it on repeat while I wrote this so you should give it a try. :)

They didn’t talk about it much, at least not right away. After everything, Lydia slid into the backseat of Derek’s car without thinking about it much; without thinking of anything really except staying close to Jackson. He kept an arm around her and she kept her face buried in his neck, shamelessly clinging to one another. Maybe a few weeks ago Lydia would be discouraging this sort of dependency, wouldn’t even admit to needing it. But...but she really _did_ love Jackson, no matter how she made it look on the outside. She could use as many layers of foundation and lipgloss and mascara she wanted, but there was no changing that _she loved Jackson_.

Of course when they got back there was the aftermath of Gerard’s stunt on the lacrosse field to try and explain away. They lied as best they could - Jackson woke up completely disoriented and scared. He didn’t know where he was or what happened so he'd ran. He went into a fugue state just like Lydia had done. Of course the doctors who’d declared him dead looked like idiots but there were ways to explain that too, to explain his lack of pulse when they got to him. Words flew around that Lydia should’ve known, she _should’ve_. But she couldn’t remember any of the words five minutes after they’d been spoken. All she could focus on was Jackson. 

Jackson ignored his parents’ protests and brought Lydia home. Lydia sent one text to her mother to let her know where she was and ignored the rest, turning it on silent and crawling into bed beside him for the night. 

She wasn’t an idiot. She knew that their relationship was dysfunctional and maybe even unhealthy. But somehow, even Lydia Martin’s practical and rational side couldn’t talk her out of loving Jackson. Because love wasn’t rational, not really. Love was a chemical reaction in the brain; love was norepinephrine and dopamine and serotonin and phenylethylamine flooding through the bloodstream, affecting the way her brain worked and how her perception changed. Suddenly everything seemed a little bit...a little bit _better_ when Jackson was around. And somehow that feeling was enough for even Lydia Martin to push away rationality in exchange for happiness. 

+

Lydia was alone in the house on the last day of school and she was...she was comfortable. Her hair was tied up carelessly instead of styled meticulously; she wore comfortable cotton leggings and an oversized MIT sweatshirt that was faded and well loved that she'd bought the first time she visited the school at 13 and decided that’s where she wanted to go and even though they only had an extra large she got it anyways. 

She was leaning against the counter eating out of a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby when the doorbell rang. She hummed to herself as she sat down the ice cream and padded through the huge house on socked feet, sliding to the door with a grin to herself. 

“Jackson, I didn’t know you were coming over,” she said, reaching for his hand and pulling him inside so she could close the door. She slid a hand behind his neck and got on her tiptoes to kiss him, slow and deep and intimate. 

“Lydia,” he mumbled, hands wrapping around her wrists and pulling her away. He looked pained to do it and Lydia furrowed her brows, sinking back down to stand flat on her feet as she stared up at him. 

“Jackson, wh-” 

“We need to talk,” he said flatly, looking down at her with something akin to regret and sorrow in his cornflower blue eyes. 

+

London. Jackson was...he was going to London. No. Not _going_ , he was _moving_ to London. He was moving five thousand two hundred and twenty eight miles away from Beacon Hills, away from California, away from _Lydia_. 

Lydia took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, green eyes wide as she processed the information. Jackson sat quietly beside her, one hand resting on her back and the other gripping her hand tightly as if he was afraid to let go. Lydia took a deep breath and then another, licking her lips. She opened and closed her mouth a few times but just shook her head. 

“London,” she finally whispered, looking over at him. 

“Yea,” he agreed faintly as if he still couldn’t believe it himself. 

+

Lydia drove him to the airport despite his parents’ disapproving looks. She waited while he checked his bags and walked him as far as security. Then she hugged him tightly and spent a good few minutes kissing him and making him promise not to forget her. And then she held back tears until he waved one last time from the other side of security and disappeared. When the tears fell the first time, it wouldn’t be the last. 

+

“How’s London?” Lydia asked with a smile, carding fingers through her hair as she looked at Jackson’s face on the screen. It was dark there where it was bright outside for her, reinforcing their distance and making her heart squeeze. 

“Oh you know, Brits are kind of stuck up,” he said with a smirk, shrugging his bare shoulders.

“You’re kind of stuck up,” she teased back and reveled in the soft sounds of Jackson’s laughter that her measly Macbook speakers didn’t do justice to.

They talked for an hour before they both had locked their doors and were naked in front of their cameras. Lydia watched Jackson’s hand move up and down his cock and she bit her lip, tweaking her own nipples with one hand and sliding a hand between her legs and letting him watch as she dipped her fingers inside with a soft gasp. He watched her shake through her orgasm and she told him she wished she could be there to lick him clean. 

Then he was nodding off and she said goodbye, stood up, and went to go shower. 

+

They Skyped almost every day, talking for hours about the things Jackson was doing and the people Lydia was avoiding. Lydia stayed up all night every night of the full moon, watching with worry as he struggled against the chains he used to keep from accidentally hurting anyone. He assured her that he just needed her to talk to him and he would be okay. So she talked and talked and talked. She talked about anything she could think of because she knew it was the sound of her voice more than anything else that was keeping Jackson calm. 

The first time Lydia sent Jackson a package in the mail was after the first full moon since he'd left. She found a few of his things but she didn’t want to give them back. So instead she packed a few of her own things that she knew would still smell like her. She packed a sweatshirt that she’d worn so many times on movie nights with him that the words printed on were indiscernible, a stuffed tiger that she’d had since she was thirteen and went through a faze, and a pair of panties that she’d worn one one of their Skype sessions as well as a few other small things that she thought he would like. 

She sent it off and a week later, Jackson showed up on her screen wearing the sweatshirt and not so subtly turning to sniff his shoulder every few moments. They each came more than once over the camera and then both fell asleep with the Skype call still open. 

\+ 

Jackson sent Lydia back a long letter and Lydia sat in her room with the door locked and cried over it because she’d never realized that he could be so damn _sweet_. She folded it back up and got on her knees by her bed, digging underneath for the little cedar box with the engraving of a tree on it that she’d been given by her grandmother. She swallowed thickly and placed Jackson’s letter inside to keep it safe and every letter that she got after that. 

+

Soon school was starting and their daily Skype sessions turned into every other day turned into two or three times a week. Jackson’s letters came more infrequently and Lydia didn’t always have time to get a care package together with Jackson’s favorite foods and a new clothing item for him. He sent her clothes back when they stopped smelling like her and she tried to make sure he always had something but it was hard. Life got in the way and the distance strained them. 

They kept Skyping every other day but the conversations got shorter and shorter. Jackson’s letters dwindled in length and Lydia’s packages got smaller and smaller. 

Then Lydia met Aiden who reminded her so much of Jackson sometimes that it hit hard in her gut but she clung to him. He had the styled hair and leather jacket and sexy motorcycle. He oozed confidence and Lydia gravitated. 

And Jackson met Elizabeth who was so like Lydia but so different at the same time. She had short blonde hair and wide blue eyes behind tortoise shell glasses and gold freckles over her cheeks. She was a human who grew up in a pack of werewolves and she didn’t care what Jackson was. 

+

“I think we need to break up.” 

Jackson let out a short breath of air and nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “Yea,” he agreed faintly. 

“I still love you,” Lydia said quietly, heart breaking bit by bit but she refused to cry. 

“I know, Lydia. I know. I love you too,” he promised her, taking a deep breath that she could hear him let out slowly. “Maybe this just wasn’t the right time for us. Maybe we’ll find our way back to each other in a few months or years and we’ll be ready to try again. I don’t think this is over for good.”

“Not over for good,” Lydia agreed gently but determinedly. “Just over for now.” 

“Just over for now,” Jackson repeated.

**Author's Note:**

> Come play with me on [tumblr](http://failwolfhale.tumblr.com)?? I'm really nice. 
> 
> There'll be a new post/story every Wednesday for the next few weeks and you can see upcoming prompts for the fic battle [](http://imthekeptainnow.tumblr.com/post/60281251001/>here</a>!%0A%0AAs%20always,%20constructive%20criticism%20is%20always%20welcomed%20and%20I%20hope%20you%20guys%20enjoy%20this%20fic%20better%20than%20the%20last.%20:\))


End file.
